Midnight Eyes
by Asukai-Knight
Summary: Connor awoke with a start, sweat dripping from his face. He could feel his racing heart pounding against his chest. It happened again.
1. Connor Nox

**Tales of Heroes**

**Chapter One**

Connor awoke with a start, sweat dripping from his face. He could feel his racing heart pounding against his chest. It happened again.

It was the middle of the night in the west end of London, Connor slowly turned his head to his left, bringing his alarm clock into view. 1:22 am. He had only been asleep for twenty minuets since the last one.

He gradually dragged himself out of bed and made his way across his floor towards the window, the sandpaper-like carpet felt rough under his bare feet. As he made his way across his dim bed-sit, he could hear the sounds of the city outside; police sirens screaming as they sped through town, the low humming of vehicles passing on the main road near by, and the odd stray cat hissing after some rat, enjoying the thrill of its hunt.

Connor often sat by his window, he would watch person after person battling to find meaning in their lives as they followed their own daily rituals and routines to try and give them some feeling of direction, and doing so with an almost a religious conviction.

He looked around his dimly lit room; the only source of light was that from the street lamps that lit the gloomy street outside. As he looked his gaze fell upon a photo sitting on top of a rather neglected set of chest of draws. The photo was old, and showed him a life that he struggled to believe was once his. He looked at the little boy in the photo, the boy, no older than five, carried a smile that was now a stranger to his face. He looked at the similarly happy people surrounding the boy, the proud mother and father standing over him, the seaside sun reflecting off their sunglasses. And there sitting in his arms was his younger sister. He didn't really remember much about his sister, as she died in an accident not long after the picture was taken at the age of three, but he knew he loved her, more than he had anything in this world. For a moment he could swear he was back there, he closed his eyes and was sure that he could feel the warmth of the sun on his face, that he could smell the salty sea air rushing up from the ocean as he held Katie tightly within his arms. He could almost remember what it was to be truly happy.  
But as soon as it came it went.

He sighed, almost in painfully as his surroundings came rushing back, the grim reality of the past events returning to the fore front of his mind haunting him once more.

His simple bed-sit was exactly that, simple. The walls were covered with a grim shade of grey wallpaper, which hung hopelessly off the top left corner on the far wall adjacent to his bed.

As he watched the damp creep in from the ceiling above, he couldn't help but wonder if this was all life was. He often longed for something bigger in order to regain the happiness he was sure he felt in his youth.

He didn't return to bed that night, it was becoming an increasingly familiar sight to see him sitting at his small, single-pain window watching the slow October sun rise over the slumbering city, often wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. Connor loved the sunrise, it made things seem oddly simple and gave him a brief moment of contentment. Almost everyday he would watch the sun slowly creep up from behind the seemingly infinite horizon and would often not even hear the sound of his alarm clock as it switched onto the Radio One breakfast show at 7:00 am.

Before he knew it, he heard the familiar sound of the morning jingle, which meant one thing.

Work.

He rose from his seat by the window and headed towards his bedside sink. His 'bathroom' consisted of a sink in a little alcove by his bed, the sink was far from new and had rust and water stains climbing from the bottom of it's column, to underneath the basin. Above the sink was a small rectangular mirror with a deep crack running up the left edge.

Connor stood in front of the mirror, and paused. He was slim built and had rich dark brown hair. His face, though good looking, was worn and rugged by lack of sleep and darkened by the need of a shave. But all the same there was nothing special about his appearance, nothing special at all except his eyes. His eyes always mystified those who met him due to their colour. The iris' of his eyes were a very rich dark blue, with small flecks of ruby and purple emanating from the edge of his pupils. This baffled even the most experienced doctors, who just put it down as an anomaly of genetics.

But he knew it was something more.

Connor got washed and dressed in his Uniform and began to head for work. He had a job working part time as lifeguard at the local (and rather dilapidated) swimming pool, which thankfully for him was only a shot distance walk from his bed-sit. The last few weeks he had been assigned to the morning-swim shift, he didn't mind this too much, the pay wasn't very good, but the morning hours were often very slow with usually one or two people in the pool giving him a lot of time to himself.

He remembered one incident about 2 weeks ago, a little girl, no older than seven years old, came swimming with her mother. The girl, like most children, was very impatient and wanted to get into the pool as quickly as she could, her mother on the other hand was still trying to sort out their towels and prepare them on the side benches for when they were finished.

The little girl began to run towards the shallow end of the pool. Connor went to blow his whistle to signify the girl to refrain from running, as he did so the girl slipped and fell head first into the deep end, The sound of her muffled screams as she hit the surface hit him like a bullet, and for an instant he froze.

He could hear the girl as she chocked on mouthful after mouthful of pool water. Connor sat there petrified, trying to process what was happening, and it was only when he heard the agonizing scream of the girl's mother as she saw her daughter sinking beneath the surface, that his instincts took over.

The girl was clearly out of oxygen, the panic in her mind causing her to expel any air she had left in her lungs. And as quickly as she hit the water she began to fade under its surface. Connor dived straight from his high chair into the pool, as he hit the water he felt something he hadn't felt since leaving home. Panic and confusion flooded his mind as he couldn't find the sinking child.

As his panic increased his eyes began to surge, an intense heat was building in his sockets and temporally made him unable to move. The heat in his head grew until there was an almighty crash as the energy that was searing in behind his eyes released into the water raising a light consumed any vision he had left. In fear he closed his eyes, this feeling felt all to familiar, and it petrified him.

Then there was silence.

The throbbing in Connor's head had left him and as he opened his eyes again he new something wasn't right. He looked around only to realise that the he pool was completely empty of its water, leaving only him and the barely breathing body of a seven year old girl at the pool's floor....…the mother continued to scream…


	2. The Burning

Connor – Chapter 2 – _"Four Months Ago"_

_One Year Ago…_

"Connor…Connor?"

His mother burst through the door to his bedroom, "Connor how many times have I told you, you need to set your alarm. You'll be late for college again…Get up!" she made her way across the room and fiercely opened his curtains, letting in the dazzling summer morning sun. "Get up now!!" his mother continued "what's you father going to think about this, now up!"

Connor, grudgingly raised his head from his pillow squinting as the light hit his dimmed eyes.

"OK, I'm up already!" he mumbled.

"Well that's funny because you looked asleep to me, now hurry up, breakfast is on the table. You have 15 minutes to get up and ready if you want a lift in."

His mother left the room closing the door behind her. He slowly began to rise from his bed rubbing his eyes. Once he was dressed and ready he headed downstairs to the kitchen, as he entered there was his mum tending to some toast in the toaster and as usual there was his father reading the morning paper at the table. David Nox was a typical nine-to-five sort of man, he lived to work. If he wasn't at work he was always reading books or articles on work related topics, and if all else failed he would always talk about work. He was an accountant at a local bank, his stern face showed years of number crunching and had now become his life. Connor and his father never really connected, he was always seeking his father's approval but all his father could see was disappointment; his grades weren't as high as they should be or he wasn't keeping up with his piano lessons or any achievement Connor had gained was always dimmed by his father, usually with the same old phrase beginning with _'I was different when I was your age"_. As he entered the room he caught his mother's attention.

"Ah! There he is. See I told you he'd be up in time didn't I mark?" she said looking at her husband. "breakfast Connor?"

"Err, no thanks. Not hungry" Connor grumbled.

"You have to eat breakfast, it's the most important meal of the day" said his father not lifting an eye from behind his newspaper, "When I was your age I always made sure I had a healthy breakfast to prepare me for the day, that's how I got _my_ grades. Maybe you should consider breakfast more rather than just dismissing it?"

"Yes dad". Connor sighed as he took a piece of toast and sat at the opposite end of the table to his father, who was still buried behind the _Daily Telegram_.

He always loathed the look of this kitchen; he always felt that when he came in he had inadvertently stepped into the 70s. The cupboards were made of a light wood and all the worktops were a hideous shade lime green, even the floor reeked distaste with it's patterned brown lino.

"You ready?" his mum asked snapping him back to the moment.

"Yeah, just need to grab my bag" he said rising for the table heading for the door

"OK but hurry up, your dad can't wait forever." She replied following him into the hallway.

"Dad's taking me?" Connor said appalled at the thought, his voice low enough for his father not to hear.

"Well yes, my car's in the garage isn't it!?"

"Since when!?" Connor asked,

"Since some idiot in a Jeep backed into me" she retorted surprised by his ignorance "now come on, your father's waiting"

The ride to college was excruciatingly painful for Connor and no doubt for his father; they sat in silence for the vast majority of the journey apart from the frequent interlude of lecturing from Mr. Nox on his studies. His father could never understand why his only son was so different to himself, when faced with the prospect of having a son, almost nineteen years ago, he envisaged a boy of whom he could see himself in and who would look up to him in everything from demeanour to work ethics . To him, Connor was a disappointment, the more Connor individualised the further the two of them grew apart and the bigger the arguments got, often ending in Connor being left bashed and bruised. The older Connor got, the more violent the attacks, and the more he wanted to fight back.

When Connor arrived at college he had barely stepped out of the car before his father sped off without so much as a goodbye.

Connor was now finishing his A levels at college and had one more exam to sit that day, he was thankful his studies were over, for the moment anyway; the thought of university was too daunting to think of at this time. He was an average student, not failing his subjects but not (much to his father's disapproval) excelling either. His last exam was psychology, the exam he knew he could ace.

He had just made it to college in time for his exam, leaving him five minutes to cram in some last minute revision. Soon enough he found himself sitting at a single desk in a strict grid-like outlay. He sat there staring at the writing on the desk as the papers were given out, admiring the handiwork of the so called _'rebel'_ youth of today.

Once the papers had been given out the woman at the front of the class gave them the signal to begin, Connor opened his exam and began to answer the questions almost mechanically; he knew the answers but honestly didn't care. His mind was somewhere else.

After the exams Connor and a couple of his mates headed down the pub to celebrate the end of their two year course. Connor's father hated the thought of Connor _'wasting time'_ in a pub, and though he never came home drunk his father would still display his disgust with him for doing so, though often hypocritically.

His father, when stressed became even more unbearable to live with, the pressure of crunching numbers nine-to-five would take its toll on anyone and it seemed the longer he worked in this profession the less emotion he showed until it reached a point were any emotion was suppressed, be it happiness or sadness, this monotony and repression often turned his hand to drink, and to him this was the only way he could escape from his emotional subjugation. This in turn, turned into bitterness and resentment for those he felt who trapped him in this life. That night was no exception.

Connor returned home that night a little later than intended but still relatively early, he had decided to stay till around ten o'clock but not to drink, in order to spare any further reason for his father to start a row. When he stepped over the threshold he could hear the raised voice of his father shouting at his mum, Connor knew then that his father had been drinking. He was about to step into the kitchen when his father caught his oddly coloured eyes. It had started.

"What time do you fucking well call this!" he shouted the stench of scotch ripe in his breath.  
"Don't start on him Mark, he was just out celebrating" pleaded his mother, as if she knew what would happen. This wasn't the first time.

"Don't you stick up for him" his father said with a slur, and a face filling red.  
"I'm not I , I …I…I." his mother stammered with fear "please you don't want this, you'll get out of control"  
"What?" replied his father coldly.  
"I meant… 'it' 'it'll get out of control'…I didn't mean you, I… just meant…_this_" she said, tears filling her eyes as she whimpered and pleaded.

"I know exactly what you meant!" he sneered, moving towards her.

Connor's eyes began to burn...


End file.
